Drew said that he couldn’t see any more faeries around them, and Danny had no choice but to take his word for it. He supposed it made sense that if any other faeries had seen what the students were doing to them they might want to hide. Perhaps the professor’s suggestion that the creature would get irate with lack of attention paid to them was only accurate in scenarios when being noticed wasn’t likely to get them captured and re-caged. Especially if the faeries happened to know that wizards cast spells to reveal them so they could remove their wings. He supposed a Lurlina’s existence must be a constant battle between vanity and self preservation (a struggle he couldn’t really relate to; even though he would agree that his vanity was on the increase since he’d emerged from adolescence, it had little effect on any aspect of his life other than his strut, and was unlikely to get him killed, captured or dismembered).

He didn’t miss that Drew had almost called the Professor ‘Aunt’, but only because he changed his mind half-way through the word - if he’d continued with it Danny probably wouldn’t have noticed the misplaced scenario-specific title. He’d been friends with Marissa since his first week at RMI, if not his first day, so having people around him refer to staff members as assorted relations was something as normal to him as anything else at the school. Either way he didn’t really have an answer to Drew’s potentially hypothetical question so he shrugged. “Yeah I’ve wondered about the creatures in magizoo and in this class,” he commented as he turned and began back ambling towards where they’d started, at Drew’s suggestion.”I can’t imagine they’re all just being kept in the school just to be brought out for classes once every couple of years. My best theory,” he said conversationally, “is that there’s some sort of catalogue of magical creatures, on a reserve or someplace, where all the wizarding educators can borrow and return them like library books.” Danny grinned. The concept itself was possibly not the most outrageous idea, but the mental image of arranging magical beings on shelves with a decimal system was definitely worth a smile, at least. Possibly a chortle.

Circling back to Marissa had the potential to be awkward, but somehow it wasn’t; probably due mostly to Drew proclaiming - and Danny believing him - that he was fine with it. The stuff he alluded to caused Danny to consciously unfurl his fingers a little, when he realised he was no longer holding the faerie as gently as he had before, and he was surprised to discover that Drew knew anything at all about how Marissa had been last term. Admittedly she wasn’t her usual, buoyant self (and it was difficult for him not to blame himself for that, even though, at the time, he’d been so sure he’d made the right choices for then … of course he also was comfortable with Holland’s theory that he was just an idiot sometimes, which possibly explained his poor decision making but in no way excused it) but either the relatives were closer than Danny had understood, or Drew was particularly observant for a twelve year old. Possibly both.

“We look out for each other,” Drew said, and something about his tone - as well as context - suggested to Danny that ‘we’ implied more than just Marissa and Drew: probably Kit as well, maybe the whole Tennant-centric family. Again, from what he already knew of Marissa and her fondness for her relatives, this interpretation seemed both apt and unsurprising. It was perhaps unusual to hear a first year saying he’d look out for his sixth year pseudo-niece, but Danny could fully empathise with the desire to protect Marissa, and to prevent, as far as possible, any harm coming to her. He felt that way himself, but to express it might seem like he was trying to outshine or otherwise undermine her family, which was the very last thing on his mind.

“She’s lucky to have so many people looking out for her,” he said, feeling a little like he was attempting to convey an allegiance. It was weird, wanting to seek approval from a twelve-year old, but Danny realised that was what he was doing. As far as his romantic relationship with Marissa was concerned, Dardanius could no better predict its course, duration or cessation any better than he could predict when it might rain jelly beans on the Quidditch pitch, but he felt he could be relatively certain that as long as Marissa was in his life in any way, he would be fighting her corner.